


Anchor

by RoseWintersong



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:53:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23443531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseWintersong/pseuds/RoseWintersong
Summary: Hermione binds herself to Sirius in order to bring him back to the world of the living. (One shot)
Relationships: Sirius Black/Hermione Granger
Comments: 9
Kudos: 110





	Anchor

Hermione Granger stood in front of the ancient archway. Whispers called out to her, the veil between her world and another fluttering in a breeze that seemed to emanate from the structure. She drew her wand and sliced her palm, throwing the blood that welled up from the cut at the Arch.   
“I call to you,” She yelled out in a clear, strong voice. “Son of the Ancient House of Black.” A light seemed to grow within the arch, the breeze picked up speed and Hermione inched forward. “Come and restore your house!”  
Hermione had worked night and day to find this ritual. She had torn through Number 12 Grimmauld Place to find the materials she would need. She was lucky to find the signet ring of the house of Black and she used it as a totem to summon the Black heir to the forefront. Slipping the ring onto her hand, she tied a thick rope around her waist, securing it to the ground with a strong sticking charm. Approaching the arch, she downed a potion of her own making, in hopes that it would help her withstand what was to happen next.  
“Here goes nothing,” she whispered, stepping forth into the veil that separated her from the land of the dead.  
The first thing she noticed was the noise. The sounds of the groaning and crying dead was almost deafening to her unprepared ears. The next thing she noticed was that she seemed to be in a train station. Everything was clean, white, with no train in sight. Hermione walked past the empty platforms, searching for someone that she desperately wanted to find. Her breathing grew shallow as the living weren’t meant to be here, the potion she created barely working. She pulled the rope to find it still secure. Hermione knew she couldn’t stay long, but she was determined to find him. “For Harry,” she whispered. “He needs you.”  
“Hermione?” A voice she never thought she’d hear again called out, and she turned to see a dark haired man. The lines on his face told her of the miserable life he had lived before falling through the veil. His dark hair hung to his shoulder, his face scruffy and those piercing grey eyes that could embed themselves into her very soul.  
“Sirius,” she breathed.  
“What are you doing here?”  
“I came for you.” Hermione held her hand out to him. “It’s time to go home.”  
“Why?” Sirius hesitated in grabbing her hand.  
“Because you deserve a second chance.” Sirius grabbed her hand then, and she pulled him closer to her before leading him down the path the rope led.  
They stood in front of what appeared to be the end of the rope, neither seeing the entrance before Hermione bent over to grab the rope. Both held on as they pulled themselves through the veil and stumbled to the cold stone ground. Sirius gasped for air, no longer used to breathing the air the living needed. Hermione coughed before crawling toward the mediwitch kit she had brought. Pulling potions out, she handed them one by one to Sirius who drank them down with no questions. He laid on the ground, his breathing calming to a normal rate while Hermione laid down next to him.  
“I’m back,” he whispered reverently. “Am I really here?”  
“You’re really here,” she assured.   
Sirius rolled over and grabbed her face in his hands and pulled her face to his and pressed his lips to hers. Hermione froze in surprise before allowing herself to melt into him, the crush she had on him crashing into her full force. His kisses left a burn against her lips that she craved, and when he pulled away with an apology in those grey eyes, she pulled him back in.  
Hermione kissed him with a passion she had never known with Ron. The touch of his lips on hers left a fire that licked at her skin, and his hands held her hips in a bruising grip. She allowed her hands to drift south, finding the bottom of the shirt he wore and slipping her fingers under to caress his skin. Sirius trembled at her touch and pressed his tongue to the seam of her lips and she opened for him. They explored each other in a dance that was both curious and desperate. Sirius broke the kiss long enough to grab the hem of her shirt and yank it over her head. Her skin touched the cold stone ground and she arched her back in response. Sirius slipped his arm under the curve of her back and rolled her on top of him before bringing his face back to hers.  
Hermione reached behind her back and unhooked the bra she wore, letting it fall to her bent elbows before tossing it to the side. She sat atop him, with his arms wrapped around her tight as she slipped her hands against his skin before lifting the hem and throwing his own shirt with hers. He pressed against her and let out a soft moan as Hermione whimpered in response.  
“We shouldn’t do this,” he whispered against her lips.  
“Probably not,” she responded, threading her hands into his hair and pulling his head back as she nibbled his ear. Sirius growled and bit the juncture between her neck and shoulder.  
“You’re Harry’s best friend,” he reasoned.  
“The ritual I used to bring you back requires an anchor.” she admitted. “And I have wanted you for a very long time,”  
“Shut up.” Sirius rolled them over, laying her down before trailing light kisses down her chest and belly before undoing the front of her jeans. Yanking the jeans down her legs, he dragged his teeth against her hip bones and left lingering kisses down the exposed skin, inch by inch. Hermione threw her head back with a groan when his hands slipped into her drenched knickers. “You are my anchor?” he whispered against her skin, trailing kisses up her other leg before biting her other hip. Hermione nodded frantically and he took the hem of her underwear between his teeth and dragged them down the same path her jeans had taken. “What does that entail, hm?” Sirius buried his face between her thighs, taking her sensitive nub between his lips and she cried out.  
“A bonding,” she panted.  
“Is that so?” The vibrations his voice caused sent trembles up her spine, and he flicked his tongue against her sweet button before running his tongue up the length of her slit.  
“Yes,” Hermione whined. “The ritual called fo-for the recipient to b-bond with someone of the l-living otherwise they wo-would lose their-OH RIGHT THERE!” Hermione cried out.  
“I know what ritual you used,” Sirius slipped a finger into her warm channel and crooked it upward and Hermione arched her back with a loud gasp. He sucked her clit back into his mouth and flicked it with his tongue some more before her orgasm crashed into her and her scream echoed through the Death room. Sirius slid up her quacking body, and rolled her limp form back on top of him. “Do what you need to,” he told her. Hermione reached down with a blush and undid his trousers, letting loose his strained erection.  
Hermione rose herself, and sunk down onto his hard length and let out a hiss. “I call to you, Heir of House Black,” she began. “to bind you to the realm of the living.” She rose up and brought herself back down and he let out a quiet curse as he grabbed her hips tightly. She set a steady pace and with each rise and fall of her hips, and with each uttered word, a cord of light tightened between them. “I bind myself to you, my body and my soul” her voice began to tremble, and his fingers found her clit.  
“At the same time,” he grunted.  
“Until our dying day,” She called out. “Ego anchoram!” she finished before he let out a roar of completion and her body tensed and she gasped out a silent scream.   
Hermione’s sweat soaked body fell against his, and he wrapped his muscled arms around her.  
“We should leave,” he whispered and she nodded.  
Hermione pulled herself off of him and cast a quiet scourgify on both of them before locating their clothes. She could feel the bond pulling against her chest, an invisible cord that tied them together forever. Harry would have his family, Sirius would have a second chance. And she would have a bond with a man who could never reciprocate the feelings she had denied herself for years.  
“I arranged for a home for you,” she commented, dressing.  
“Hermione,” Sirius began.  
“I have filled out the paperwork in my own name, but we can change that once we’ve declared you as living,” she continued. Sirius grabbed her hand and tugged her back to him. His chest was bare, his shirt slung over his shoulder, and he held her close to him.  
“We are bonded,” he pointed out.  
“We are. I know it isn’t ideal, but I wanted you to have a second chance. You can live your life the way you want, you could find someone of your very own, settle down. Or...whatever.” Hermione couldn’t bear to look at him. She knew as the anchor that held him to the mortal realm, she could never bond to another. She would never marry and would spend her life alone. But he was not restricted to that life. It was worth it to her, it was all for Harry after all. He was to be a father soon, and she knew he was scared. Maybe a father figure by his side would help him.  
“I’m staying with you,” Sirius said before touching his lips to hers. “I know that ritual. You’ve tied yourself to me, and you could never tie yourself to another person. It isn’t ideal, no. You don’t deserve to tie yourself to an old man. But if you’ll allow me, I will cherish you. I will worship you the way a woman should be, and we will learn to love one another. I will never stop fighting to deserve this second chance you’ve given me.”   
Hermione felt tears slip their way down her cheeks and she nodded. Sirius put his shirt back on and took her mediwitch bag and her hand. Together, Hermione Granger and Sirius Black took their first steps into a new chapter.

**Author's Note:**

> Ego Anchoram roughly translates to I am the Anchor. I do not speak latin, so it's just a translation from google. If I'm wrong, feel free to correct me.


End file.
